


Of Talking Trees and Surface Wonders

by sartiebodyshots



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Brecilian Forest, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 11:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7436637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sartiebodyshots/pseuds/sartiebodyshots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair looks for Sereda's reaction to the Elder Tree when they stop for a meal in the Brecilian Forest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Talking Trees and Surface Wonders

“So…?” Alistair asks in a teasing voice.  

“What?” Sereda asks, looking up at him in confusion.  

They’re resting for lunch, and Sereda is enjoying her bread and jerky.  She’s not even sure that Alistair is talking to her at first.

“What did you think of the Elder Tree?” Alistair asks.  

He’s still speaking in the same teasing tone, and Sereda doesn’t understand why.  It was a tree.

“The Elder Tree seemed nice enough.  I’ve never heard dwarves called ‘Children of the Deeper Stone’- usually we’re just ‘Children of the Stone’- but it makes sense.  Does my voice sound different from a human or elven one, though?” Sereda asks.  

“Uh, not that I can tell,” Alistair says.  

“Hm,” Sereda says.  “Maybe it’s something else.”

“But the talking tree, Sereda!” Alistair says.  “And all the other trees attacking us!”

“What about them?” Sereda asks.  

Alistair sighs.  “You don’t have any reaction?”

“Should I?” Sereda asks.  

“They’re talking trees!  Walking trees!” Alistair exclaims.  

“And fighting ones, too,” Sereda says.  

“So you don’t have  _ any _ reaction to this?” Alistair asks.  “None at all?”

“Alistair,  _ please _ just tell me what reaction you’re looking for,” Sereda says.  “It’s much easier that way.”  

“I dunno, anything?  You’re always so excited to see everything.  Considering I don’t think any of us have seen talking trees before- except maybe Morrigan- I thought you would be, like, extra excited,” Alistair says.  

“I didn’t, uh, realize that they’re that unusual, honestly,” Sereda says.  

“They’re talking trees!  That rhyme!” Alistair says.  “How is that not strange?”

“I find all trees strange, mostly,” Sereda says with a shrug.  “I’ve been up here a few months, yeah, but I’m sure I have plenty more to see.”

Alistair grumbles a little.  

“What’s that?” Sereda asks.  

“It’s really weird to be doing a favor for a tree!” Alistair says.  “Is this how you felt when you first left Orzammar?’

“Alistair, my friend,” Sereda stars, reaching up to pat his arm, “you find one thing surprising and weird, and once we leave the forest, the trees will probably stop talking.  Definitely not the same.”

“That is… an excellent point,” Alistair says.  “The talking tree is still really cool, though.”

Sereda laughs.  “Yeah, he is.  I like him.  As far as weird topsider stuff, this is definitely one of my favorites.”

“Oooh, what other weird topsider stuff have you liked?” Alistair asks.  

Sereda pretends to consider it.  “Valda, mostly.”

Her mabari barks at the sound of his name, bounding forward to nuzzle her hand.  

“Yeah, yeah, I mean you, boy,” Sereda says, scratching him behind the ears.  “You know I love you.  Cutest topsider nonsense I’ve ever seen.”

Valda whines and runs into the woods. 

“Be careful!” Sereda calls after him.  

“Sometimes, I think that you like him more than me,” Alistair says, fake-pouting.  

Sereda looks up at him out of the corner of her eye.  “Do you really want to know, or…?”

“Hah hah, very funny,” Alistair says dryly.  

“He’s loyal and cute and right at eye level.  I appreciate that in a companion,” Sereda says.  “Valda also brings me balls of yarn and dead animals sometimes.” 

“I could bring you dead animals, too.  Not that impressive,” Alistair says.  

“But do you?  Do you ever bring me dead animals?” Sereda asks.  

“No…  Should I be?  Is this some Orzammar thing?” Alistair asks, squinting at her.  

“The dwarves of Orzammar do  _ not  _ present each other with dead animals, Alistair.  My older brother used to bring me rare varieties of deep mushrooms sometimes, but that’s not really necessary,” Sereda says.  

“Okay, good to know,” Alistair says, nodding a little.  “Deep mushrooms good; dead animals are only good from Valda.”

“Very astute breakdown,” Sereda says.  

“I’m as-tute as they come,” Alistair says.  

Sereda makes a face and looks up at him.  The look on his face is so serious and deadpan that Sereda can’t help burst out laughing.  It’s a good, hearty laugh that shakes her and makes her armor clink against itself.  That Alistair has the most self satisfied look on his face only makes it better.  

Valda bounds back into view, and Sereda can tell that he’s got a present for her.  Sure enough, he walks proudly over to her and Alistair before dropping some dead animal in front of her.  

“Aw, Valda,” Sereda coos, scratching him behind his ears.  “You brought me a dead thing again!  Who’s a good wardog?  Who’s a good killer wardog?  Who’s the cutest, best wardog?”

Valda barks and licks her cheek.  

“Yeah!  That’s right!  You!” Sereda says, delighted.  

“Ewwww,” Alistair says, wrinkling his nose.  “Who knows where his mouth has been?”

“Presumably around this dead thing.  Possibly his butt?  He licks that a lot,” Sereda says.  

“And now your face!” Alistair says.  

“But he’s so cute!  I can’t resist,” Sereda says, making smooching noises at Valda.  

Alistair groans and shakes his head.  “Gross.”

Sereda holds her hand out to Valda, pleased when he slobbers all over her.  Wiggling her fingers, she reaches up towards Alistair’s face.

“Oh, ew, Sereda!  Noooooo,” Alistair protests and then pauses.  “Wait a minute.  I can just stand up.”

Alistair does so, looking down at her with a satisfied grin.  “Hah!”

“I could still tackle you,” Sereda points out.  “You might be taller, but we both know I’m stronger.  I could totally take you down.”

“Please don’t.  Morrigan and Zevran are both watching from across the clearing, and I don’t think I could take listening to them make fun of that all today,” Alistair pleads.  

“I don’t think Zevran has much room to make fun of you for being tackled by me,” Sereda says, still sizing Alistair up.  “He knows a thing or two about that.” 

“That is so much more than I ever needed to know.  Soooo much more.  The dog-butt-saliva doesn’t seem nearly as gross now,” Alistair says.  

Sereda reaches up and wiggles her fingers.  “Then come down here.”

“Nope,” Alistair says.  “You are stuck with your slobbery, gross hand.”

Sereda huffs and wipes her hand on Valda’s fur.  “Just for that, you’re going to have to have to check all the trees back at camp to see if they’re talking trees.”

“They’re not,” Alistair protests as he settles back next to her.

“They might be.  How can you tell unless they decide to talk to you?  Maybe we’ve had talking trees following us across Ferelden and we didn’t know it?” Sereda asks.  

“Well, uh…” Alistair scrunches his brow up.  “Because they haven’t said hi to us yet?  How could they resist our sterling personalities?” 

“That’s an excellent point,” Sereda concedes as Valda sets his head on her knee.  “I can’t imagine that they could spend so much time around Valda and not want to say hi.”

“Does Zevran ever get jealous of the fact that that you like Valda more than the rest of us?  Because I sure do,” Alistair says.  

Sereda laughs.  “I don’t think that either of you have much to be jealous of.  I like all three of you so much.  Just in different ways.”

“Awww, Sereda,” Alistair says.  “I never knew that you liked me so much.  On the same level as Valda.  Wow.”

Sereda elbows him gently.  “I said I liked you a lot, but, y’know, Valda might still win out.”

Alistair huffs and crosses his arm.  

Sereda gets to her feet, holding out a hand.  “Come on, my friend.  It’s about time we go and find the Elder Tree’s acorn.  And just think!  He’ll probably talk again and everything!  How  _ strange _ .”

“It is strange.  I’m sticking to that!” Alistair says as he lets her help pull him to his feet.  “Poet trees.  Trees should be seen and not heard.”

“I totally disagree.  Maybe we can recruit a talking tree into our little band,” Sereda says.

“Why not?  Our group is weird enough as it is.  A bastard prince, a witch of the wilds, an elven assassin, a murderous qunari, a Chantry sister who can kill, and a golem.  Maker, I think you and Wynne are the only normal ones,” Alistair says, counting off on his fingers.  “A talking tree would fit right in.”

“Wynne died and is currently being kept alive by some spirit, and I honestly have no idea what’s happening when it comes to things like magic, or trees, or weather.  These are all equally strange things to me,” Sereda counters.  Plus the whole exiled princess thing, but she’s still keeping hush about that.  “Really, Valda is the only normal one.”

“Riiiiiiiight.  I always forget Wynne died.  So a tree would definitely fit right in,” Alistair says.  

“I’ll see what I can negotiate with the Elder Tree.  I think he took a liking to me,” Sereda says, grinning up at him.  

“Wait…. Did you rhyme that on purpose?  Are you going to become the poet dwarf?  Or a bard like Leliana?” Alistair asks, squinting down at her.  

“Oh, trust me.  You don’t want to hear me sing or try to string together poetry.  It would probably be enough to run off the darkspawn altogether- especially if you get your dress out and dance the remigold for them,” Sereda teases.  

“Now there’s a thought.  We should totally rework our war strategy,” Alistair says.  

They laugh in unison, both of their laughs slightly tinged with desperation at the sheer enormity of the task ahead of them.  They both just have to keep going anyway.  But at least the trees talk sometimes.  


End file.
